


Get Sherlock

by thedominatrixandthevirgin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abortion, F/M, Karachi, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:56:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedominatrixandthevirgin/pseuds/thedominatrixandthevirgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months passed after Karachi and Sherlock Holmes is finding it harder and harder to distract himself from The Woman. So when she shows up at his door with a small gift, he is more than a little overwhelmed. Will he be able to put aside his emotions and think rationally? Or will The Woman be sticking around Baker Street?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 410

John Watson sat across from his therapist, who gazed on with a sympathetic smile, and took a deep breath. Was he really here again? After all these years. Same lady, same problem. 

“You have to say it, John.” She told him kindly. Unlike last time, it was a gorgeous day outside. The birds sang happily, one of those days you just knew there were families out having picnics and enjoying each other’s company. However inside the room, an ex army doctor’s life had collapsed once more. 

“I know. Just… gimme a second.” John swallowed, trying to fight the tears threatening to surface. “I’m here because.. oh Christ,” he laughed angrily. This was beyond belief. “I’m here because I’ve lost my best friend. Again.” 

*******

 

It had been around four months since the events in Karachi, and life had more or less fallen back into place in Baker Street. The Woman was gone, Mycroft hadn’t been in touch in weeks. All was well. Boring, but well. 

Sherlock was moping around the flat one Friday, complaining to John about how bored he was after John had confiscated his gun.  
“Get a case!” John sighed in exasperation, more than fed up with the other man’s moping. He had been like this for about four months now. Ever since John had told him that Irene Adler had been put in witness protection. He knew Sherlock would never admit it, but he knew that he was missing her. And that he was upset he would not get to see her again. With the knowledge John had, this just about broke his heart.

“There isn’t a good enough case!” Sherlock sighed heavily. “They’re all boring. Mundane. Ordinary.” He moved from his spot on the sofa to the desk, flipping open his laptop and scrolling through his emails. “Please Mr. Holmes, help me find my dog. Mr. Holmes, my jar of pound coins went missing!” He read, shaking his head disappointedly. 

John rubbed his forehead. “Maybe we’ll get a client dropping by today. You should get dressed.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Ditch the sheet.”

“I don’t get dressed for anything less than a seven anymore, John. I told you yesterday. Lately I haven’t even found a decent three.” Sherlock sighed heavily, wrapping his sheet closer around himself. 

John rolled his eyes. “No potential client is going to take you seriously looking like you just stepped out of Ancient Rome or something.”

Sherlock simply rolled his eyes in return and continued scrolling through his emails. “What I wouldn’t do for a seven to come knocking on the door. Oh god, a ten. Imagine?” He mused to John. 

John rolled his eyes just as there was one solid knock on the door. “That just might be your ten.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked round. “One knock? Not a client.” He muttered and looked at John expectantly. “Well, aren’t you going to get that? I’m not dressed.”  
“It’s your turn.” John said simply, leaning back in his seat and picking up his newspaper.

“Oh for God sake.” Sherlock muttered and stood up, walking over to the door in his sheet. He was careful as he walked down the flat’s stairs so that he didn’t trip on it, muttering to himself about how annoying John was being today. He ruffled his hair as he opened the door, preparing to tell the salesman/Avon lady/religious representative to go away. He opened the door lazily and had to take a moment. “Oh. God.” He blinked when he spotted her. 

Irene Adler looked up as the door in front of her opened, a small smirk ready on her lips and a hand resting on the small bump protruding from her abdomen, unhidden by her tight, black dress. “Long time, no see, Mr Holmes.”

Sherlock blinked at her for a moment before scanning her body, his eyes resting on her small bump. “Nope. No.” Sherlock said, setting his lips in a thin line. His eyes met hers again and shook his head calmly. “No, no, nope.” He muttered, gathering his sheets and turning his back to climb the stairs.  
John raised an eyebrow as he returned to the flat, looking up at him. “Salesperson?”

“Nope.” Sherlock breathed and marched past John, slamming his bedroom door. He reached into his chest of drawers and pulled out his clothes. 

Irene walked up the stairs after a moment, an amused look on her face. She walked into the flat and looked around before sitting down in Sherlock’s armchair. “So, Dr Watson. I’m not dead.”

John stared at Irene with a look of utter shock. “I- oh my God. Miss Adler.. Irene.” He blinked, taking a moment to think. He sighed after a moment with a small smile. “It would take Sherlock Holmes to fool him. So he did save you after all.” He shook his head fondly. 

“Mmm, he did indeed. What a gentleman.” She smirked a little and leaned back in her seat. “Even left me with a parting gift.” She glanced down at her stomach with a neutral expression.

John raised an eyebrow and followed her eyeline down to her tiny bump. “Oh. Oh, wow.” He breathed before rubbing his forehead. “Oh god..” 

“That’s quite a tame reaction.” She smirked a little and looked over to Sherlock’s room. “He’s having a meltdown, isn’t he?”

At that, Sherlock appeared from his room fully dressed, wearing an unreadable expression. 

“You should feel flattered. He doesn’t get dressed for anything less than a seven these days. So this is at least a seven.” John smirked over to Irene, because he had absolutely no idea what else to do than joke. 

“A seven. Ha.” Sherlock breathed and walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. “The universe has outdone itself this time. I only begged for a ten. It’s delivered a four hundred and ten.” 

Irene smirked a little at that and watched him from over John’s shoulder. Only she would land in this situation with a man like Sherlock Holmes. No one ever did have a clue what was going on in that head. “I could do with one of those.” She said quietly.

Sherlock poured a second glass and carried it through, mentally scolding his body for giving him away with his shaking hands. He swallowed and handed Irene the glass, forcing himself not to look down to her stomach. “But, other than that, keeping well?” He asked forcing himself to sound half casual. 

“Well I’m not dead, or dying. Always a plus. And no one’s after me since they think I’m already dead. Life’s pretty good.” She took the glass and took a sip. “I can’t sleep on my front anymore, that kinda sucks.” She said equally as casually.

“Yeah, it’s not recommended pregnant women sleep on their front.” Sherlock nodded, and sat on the floor next to John’s armchair. He took a deep breath and eyed the front door, planning an escape route. 

“If you leave this flat, I promise you I will make the rest of your life a living hell.” Irene said calmly as she sipped her water. “It’s hard enough acting as if everything is fine without you having a meltdown.”

“I’m not having a meltdown. Who’s having a meltdown? All that’s happened today is that Irene Adler’s appeared, pregnant, at my door. Why on earth would I leave?!” Sherlock started to rant before jumping up and pacing the living room. 

Irene rolled her eyes a little. “If you’re wondering, I’m four months pregnant and there’s only one male I’ve slept with in that time.” She looked at him pointedly.

“I know.” Sherlock breathed, rubbing his face as he paced. “Oh god. Oh my god.” He growled in the back of his throat. “Fucking Karachi.” He muttered. 

“Mr. Holmes, don’t act as though you regret it.” She looked over to John conspiratorially. “He wasn’t exactly hiding his enjoyment.”

John shifted awkwardly and his face turned slightly pink. “Oh. Okay.” He nodded and cleared his throat. Hearing about his best mate’s sexual encounters with The Woman was so not how he thought this morning would go.

“Oh, no, this is great. Well worth it.” Sherlock nodded as he continued to walk the length of the living room. 

“I told you you should have brought a condom.” She shrugged a little and put her glass down, sitting forward.

“I didn’t save you just so we would-” Sherlock started to hiss but was interrupted by John standing up. 

“Yeah, I think this is a private sort of conversation.” John gave them a small smile, his face red now. “Sherlock, sit down. Speak properly. You know.. use your words.” He told him before walking to put on his jacket. “Irene, lovely to see you. As always.” He nodded. 

Irene gave John a mock salute before turning back to Sherlock. “Well you really should have thought of that before you pinned me against the wall. What did you expect was going to happen? We’d shake hands and go on our way?” She shifted to lean back on the seat and crossed her legs, her bump nowhere near big enough to disturb her yet.

“You were crying! I was just checking you were okay! And then you.. gave me that look. Don’t even act like you don’t know which one.” Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek and sat down on John’s chair. “Doesn’t really matter now though, does it?”

“You pushed me against the wall!” She scoffed. “With your hips.” She shook her head at him slightly. “No... I guess not. All that matters is that we did. Neither of us used protection and surprise, in five months time we’ll have the most fucked up child in history.”

Sherlock nodded along with her before frowning slightly. “Wait, no I never! You kissed me first!” He argued, leaning his cheek against his fist. 

She actually laughed at that. “Oh you liar! We got back to that room and you pushed me against the wall! And looked into my eyes. So what are you saying? You had to press me against the wall to inspect for tears?!”

Sherlock was about to get annoyed when he caught her eye and paused. “Well, yeah. Sure. I had to press you against the wall to inspect for tears. Obviously. And then again in the bathroom. I thought you were crying again.” He bit his tongue before starting to laugh. 

She bit her lip around a small grin at that. “And in bed...several times. Oh and in the bath. And how could I forget on the chair?” She started to laugh with him, shaking her head fondly. “How we thought I wouldn’t get pregnant is beyond me.” 

“Well it was a very emotional night. I was sure you were near tears several times and had to check.” Sherlock chuckled and stroked his lip idly. “Obviously, I should have taken condoms. But I genuinely didn’t plan it. The plan was rescue you, get you out of Karachi, then leave.” He sighed. “Without sounding insensitive, didn’t you think of the morning-after pill when you got to America the next day?”

Irene sighed a little. “Oh, I took it. I’m not that much of an idiot. But I must have caught something in Karachi, I was ill for like a week afterwards. It obviously didn’t take.” She rubbed her forehead. “So this is where we are.”

Sherlock nodded and shifted in his seat. “That won’t er… that wouldn’t have hurt it, right? Taking the morning-after pill but it not working?” He asked quietly, glancing once to her belly. His baby was in there. His actual child, that he and The Woman had created. Inside her, being nurtured and protected by her. 

She shook her head and looked back down at her stomach. “It wouldn’t have affected it. I just threw it up before it had a chance to work. The baby is fine. Well, I assume so.”

Her voice brought Sherlock back from his paternal thoughts and he frowned. “You assume? You didn’t get a 10 week scan?!” Sherlock asked, sitting upright. “What’ve you been doing for fifteen weeks?” 

“Panicking mostly.” She admitted. “I just kept putting it off.....” She sighed before smiling faintly. “Look at you, getting all concerned.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, leaning back again. “Sorry.” He swallowed and crossed his legs. “So. Question burning on everyone’s mind. What are you.. you know.. doing with it?” He asked guiltily. He didn’t like to refer to their baby as an ‘it’, but in the interest of time he couldn’t possibly get attached now.

“Honestly.... I have no idea.” She admitted quietly. “Hence why I’m here. It’s your decision too, it’s your child as much as it’s mine.” Their baby. Their baby she’d forced herself to stay emotionally detached from since the day she found out.

Sherlock stood up again and walked around the flat, thinking. He was mostly just trying to not become overwhelmed. Which was becoming increasingly difficult. Irene Adler, fifteen weeks pregnant, in his flat. Looking for help. With his child. He turned to look at her and swallowed. “Your life is so hectic. And dangerous. And mine’s not any better.” He mused quietly. 

She nodded in agreement. “And I’m probably the least maternal person in existence...and you the least paternal.” She murmured, looking down at her stomach and taking a deep breath. “I think we both know what we have to do. And I think we’ve known it since I stepped foot in here.”

Sherlock swallowed hard and blinked sadly. “God.” He breathed and sat back down across from her. “We couldn’t bring a child up. It.. it just wouldn’t be fair on the kid. Having us as parents.” He muttered. 

She took a deep breath. “Exactly, and neither of us have stable lives...people are going to start noticing I’m alive soon and I will not let them use an innocent baby against me.” She said firmly.

“No. No, that’s.. that’s an excellent point.” Sherlock nodded, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. “So. We’re agreed. It’s not fair to any child to introduce it to our lives?” He confirmed, looking up to meet Irene’s eyes. 

She nodded a little but couldn’t meet his eyes, her hand absentmindedly moving to cup her bump, almost in an act of protection. “Yes. And I will not put myself through 5 more months of pregnancy to lose my child. So...termination.”

Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek and cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s the only responsible answer.” He nodded firmly. "The most skilled parents in the world wouldn't be able to cope with our kid." He gave a half hearted laugh “It’s Friday. By the time we get an appointment it’ll be Monday, maybe Tuesday. Where are you staying?” He asked. 

“I booked myself into a hotel this morning.” She told him, standing up, still holding her stomach. “I’ll book an appointment and let you know when I get it. You don’t have to come with me. This can be it.”

Sherlock watched her and sighed. “You didn’t get yourself pregnant. I’m just as responsible. I’ll easily come with you.” He stood up and caught her holding her slightly swollen stomach. “Look… you’re meant to be in hiding. Just.. just stay here. For a couple of days anyway, we’ll get it done together and then part ways.” He offered, completely guilt ridden.

She finally met his eyes and almost argued but nodded silently. “But I’m not sleeping on the sofa.” She said with a small smile, finally letting her hand drop from her stomach.

“Of course not. You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. Or I’ll persuade.. or blackmail John into giving up his bed.” Sherlock smiled slightly and rubbed his head. “I’ll go Google the number for the clinic.” 

“Thank you...” She said sincerely, smiling a little more genuinely than she ever had. “I appreciate the...support.”

Sherlock smiled a little at that and walked over to the desk again, closing the tab full of boring cases and opening a new search engine, wishing more than anything that he was on his way to start the case of “Who stole the jar of pound coins?” rather than searching for abortion clinics in London.


	2. Attached

After an extensive search for the best abortion clinics in London, Sherlock booked one for the Monday morning. It was a small procedure and shouldn’t create too much discomfort for Irene. “Done. Monday at 9am.” He told Irene solemnly when he hung up the phone. He avoided her eye as he sat down, rubbing his temples. 

Irene nodded a little and looked down at her stomach. At least it would be over with as soon as possible. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. “Right. Good.”

Sherlock kicked off his shoes and crossed his legs on his chair, looking over vaguely to her. What was he meant to do all weekend with The Woman? “John, can you pass me my laptop?” He asked outloud, unsure where John even was.

“John left an hour ago.” Irene smirked faintly, it reminding her so much of the last time she was here, in this chair. “He said you do that.” she echoed herself with a slightly playful smirk.

“Oh.” Sherlock frowned before heaving himself up to get his laptop and returning and getting back into his cross legged position, a look of concentration taking over his face. 

She rolled her eyes slightly it his complete ignorance of her attempt to lighten things up. “Fuck you then.” She muttered and stood up, a hand covering her stomach out of pure instinct.

Sherlock didn’t catch the mutter and continued typing, concentrating hard. “Eggs.. salmon.. sweet potatoes?” He mumbled to himself, biting his lip idly. “John, can I have a pen?” He asked the empty room. 

Irene rolled her eyes and just completely ignored him, walking into the kitchen and making herself a cup of tea as if she owned the place.

Sherlock held his hand out for a while before realising John wasn’t bring him the pen. He leaned his cheek on his fist as he scrolled. He hummed to himself quietly and puffed his cheeks. 

Irene flicked on the radio in the kitchen, just to block out his annoying keyboard tappings. She hummed to herself quietly as she waited for the kettle to boil.

Sherlock jumped slightly when the music in the kitchen started, his eyes darting to the kitchen. He spotted Irene leaning against the counter and rolled his eyes at himself. Just Irene, making herself tea. “Can I have a coffee, please?” He called through to her. 

Irene sighed but nodded a little. “I’m the pregnant one, pretty sure you should be taking care of me, not the other way round.” She joked as she prepared a cup of coffee.

“I am researching. You’re not having coffee are you? It’s not good for pregnant women.” He told her, turning his attention back to the screen. 

Clearly something more important than she carrying his unborn child. She rolled her eyes. “I think there’s only so much damage we can do at this point. But no, I’m having tea.”

“Okay. I mean this website has a heap of fruit smoothie recipes. They’re good for the preggos.” Sherlock told her, drumming his fingers on the armchair. “I can make you one?” 

She blinked at that and a small smile crept onto her lips. She quickly fought it and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you researching pregnancy?”

“Maybe.” Sherlock pursed his lips slightly and looked over to her. “The more you know and all that.” He glanced over to her belly and had to fight a small smile. 

She bit her lip slightly at the recurring smile threatening her lips. She didn’t even burst his bubble and tell him that it really didn’t matter as she only had three days left of pregnancy. “Alright then...make me a smoothie.” She said challengingly.

Sherlock didn’t miss her challenging tone and it reminded him of a moment in Karachi. He smirked at the memory and stood up, following her through to the kitchen. “You should know better than to use that tone with me.” He winked before gathering the things to make a smoothie. 

“Ah but using that tone always has pleasing results.” She smirked and hopped up onto the counter carefully, crossing her ankles and watching him prepare the ingredients. “Look how domestic you are.” She mocked.

“Maybe in the short term. Long term results aren’t exactly what we were aiming for.” He sighed a little and looked at her belly pointedly. “I know. John’s got me well trained.” He smirked again, saying it before she could. 

She looked down at her stomach as he looked at it, gently poking it. “Yeah well, that’s getting put right soon to.” She murmured, looking back up. She smirked and nodded. “John Watson’s a lucky man. You’re such a cute couple.”

Sherlock felt a pang of sadness when she said that, sort of snapping him back to reality. He nodded wordlessly and cut up fruit for her smoothie, suddenly not in the mood for banter. 

She noticed his sudden mood change and her stomach rolled slightly and she looked back down at it. She continued to probe the bump almost curiously. She hadn’t let herself pay much attention to it before. There was a small, almost baby in there. Almost as if the fetus knew it was being observed, it decided that that would be the right time to make itself known. “Oh my god, it’s moving....I can feel it...”

Sherlock looked round suddenly at that and looked down. “Oh my god. John?!” He called through to the living room and turned his full attention to her. “You think it’s okay?” He asked her, his face concerned. 

She watched his reaction and she almost laughed. “Calm down, calm. It’s normal. The baby’s just making itself comfortable. It just feels really weird.....” She took his hand and put it on her stomach. “Can you feel it?”

Sherlock concentrated for a moment before shaking his head. “No.. I guess it’s just a moment between you and the baby.” He smiled softly but kept his hand on her stomach for a moment. 

“It’s like a little alien.” She almost laughed and put her hand on his, grinning a little. “It’s....wow.”

Sherlock mirrored her grin, almost forgetting that they weren’t keeping the baby. “I wonder who they’ll look like. Hopefully me, because I mean.. well.” He laughed and rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Rude!” She gasped before grinning a little. “Hmm, your cheekbones. My hair... my eye shape and your eye colour.” She decided.

“Heartbreaker in the making.” He chuckled. “Boy or a girl?” He asked, glancing to her with a genuine smile. 

“Girl.” She decided with a small grin. “But I bet she’d be a daddy’s girl, wrap you around her little finger just like her mum.” She chuckled.

“I am easily manipulated by Adler women.” Sherlock chuckled, “I want a boy though. I’ll be too outnumbered by you and your shadow.” 

Irene laughed softly at that before the smile slipped from her face. What were they doing? They were ending this future in two days. She could not let herself think like this. This life she had never wanted but that suddenly held a certain appeal. She looked down and dropped her hand from his. “I hope the bump goes away next week, I need to get back to work.”

Sherlock paused for a moment, the smile slowly fading from his face. He swallowed hard and let his hand drop before going back to cutting the fruit. “Yeah. Hopefully.” He sighed, thinking vaguely about how happy he’d been thinking of a possibility of having a child. “Have you not been working at all then?” He asked quietly. 

She shook her head slightly. “Not since the bump developed. As you can see, it’s quite hard to hide when I’m fully clothed. Let alone, naked or in revealing clothes. Plus most of my outfits and lingerie don’t currently fit.”

“I see, I see.” He nodded and started adding fruit to the blender. He sighed and tried to force himself out his sad mood, it was pointless and wasn’t going to change anything. 

She nodded a little. She turned to the abandoned coffee and finished making it, passing him the cup silently.

“Thank you.” He forced a small smile and sipped it. “You still remember how I take it. Sentimental bugger.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her an amused look. 

“Sentiment? More like excellent memory.” She smirked a little and looked down at her feet. “Besides, that’s how I take it.”

“If you say so.” Sherlock looked back to the blender, adding the last of the ingredients and switching it on. After a moment he poured it into a glass and handed it to her. “You still need to stay healthy even if you’re.. we’re getting rid of it. Abortions are kinda hard on the body.” He said quietly. 

She nodded slightly, almost smiling at the fact he was taking care of her. She took the glass and took a sip. “Not bad, Holmes.”

“One of my many talents, Miss Adler.” He pursed his lips and sighed. “Alright. Just make yourself at home.” He smiled a little before heading back to his seat and pulling the laptop back up to him. 

At that, John came home and threw his coat over the coat rack. He looked around, half expecting the place to be trashed or one of them to have an injury. “Hiya.” He greeted Sherlock and blinked at the lack of response. “Hey, Irene.” He rolled his eyes to The Woman, relieved to see they both looked calm and happy enough. 

Irene smiled at John and hopped off the counter, walking into the living room and sipping her smoothie. “Ignore Sherlock, he’s researching.”

“Anything in specific?” John asked and went to sit on his seat, checking his watch. 

“Pregnancy care.” Irene shrugged a little and put her feet up on the couch.

“Pregnancy care?” John smirked and looked over to Sherlock. “Remember to Google baby care and store it away in the mind palace for future reference.” He chuckled. 

Sherlock looked up at that and blinked over to John. Had he not been here all afternoon? 

Irene blinked and looked up at John. “We’re getting an abortion on Monday.” She told him emotionlessly.

John immediately lost his smile and looked between the pair of them. “Oh. Oh, right. yeah. Sorry.” He nodded before clearing his throat. 

She nodded at him and looked over at Sherlock. “Can I smoke?”

“No.” Sherlock said simply and looked back to the laptop, biting the inside of his cheek. 

She frowned. “But I’m getting an abortion anyway, what difference will it make?”

Sherlock looked up at that, a firm and somewhat annoyed expression on his face. “No.” He told her, without breaking eye contact. 

She looked into his eyes, her own darting in between his. “Why not?” She asked him.

John watched the pair warily, shifting back in his seat. “Sherlock, if she wants a smoke-”

“Then she won’t be doing it in this flat, not while she is infact still carrying my child.” He told John before looking over to Irene plainly. 

“Your child.” She scoffed and stood up, grabbing a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her bag. “One, it is a cluster of cells. Two, you don’t care that much about it if you want it terminated.”

“A cluster of cells the size of an apple, with four tiny limbs, the startings of taste buds and who you felt moving inside you not even half an hour ago!” Sherlock growled, staring at her cigarettes. “Don’t tell me ‘what I care about’, Irene Adler, don’t you dare.” He glared at her and stood up. 

She glared hard at him and jabbed her cigarettes in his direction. “If you care so much to research what our child is currently, and if I harm it, then why did you book a termination?!” She yelled at him.

“Because-” He swallowed hard and exhaled, shaking his head. “You know what? Go smoke yourself silly. I don’t care.” He placed the laptop down and clapped his hands. “Done.” 

“Perfect. Just what I hoped for!” She growled at him before turning on her heel and marching down the stairs.

Sherlock put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He had to stop thinking as though he was going to be a ‘father’ and that Irene was really pregnant. As of Monday she wouldn’t be. It was all just a blip. 

Irene stormed outside and into Baker Street, putting a cigarette between her lips and lighting it. She was just about to take a long, satisfying drag when there was a tiny nudge in her stomach. She closed her eyes and pulled the cigarette from her lips, letting it drop to the floor. She swallowed and stamped it out, letting her head hang for a moment. She quickly corrected herself and headed back into the flat, not making eye contact with either of them.

Sherlock raised his head from his hands and bit his tongue, letting her move through the flat without question. 

John sighed sadly at the pair before clearing his throat. “I reckon Sherlock should go pick up something to eat. Irene?” He asked, looking over to her. “Hungry?” 

She hummed quietly and climbed back onto the sofa. “I’d love a mushroom risotto.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that and looked at her. “You don’t like mushrooms. There were mushrooms in your pasta in Karachi and you sent it back.” 

“Yeah, well I do now.” Irene snapped and glared at him. This didn’t last long and she looked away with a small smile as she remembered how she had eaten just a plate full of mushrooms the day before.

Sherlock puffed his cheeks and stood up before he could be shouted at anymore. “Mushroom risotto it is then. John, the usual from Angelo’s I assume?” He muttered as he made his way to put on his coat. 

John nodded a little, glancing at Sherlock. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Don’t forget chocolate ice cream.” Irene murmured.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Sherlock muttered as he left the flat. He walked through the cool London air with his hands in his pockets and tried desperately not to have their situation consume his every thought. 

Maybe an hour and a half had past and John’s stomach was actually starting to hurt from the hunger pangs. “Oh, my god. Where is he?!” He ranted as he put the phone down. “Seven times his phone has went to voicemail. I knew I should have gone, I should always go.” 

“He’s a grown up, I’m sure he’s fine. But if he doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m going to slaughter his firstborn.” Irene joked before it quickly fell flat. “I mean....yeah.”

John glanced round at her and was about to tell her not to make that joke in front of Sherlock when his stomach rumbled again. “I don’t give a shit about what he’s upto, he could have at least dropped the damn food off and then went on his adventures.” 

“He’s a little shit, surely you know this by now.” Irene smirked a little and lay her head back. “I can’t tell if the babies moving or my stomach is starting to digest itself.”

“I’m pretty sure my stomach is starting to self digest. I hate him, Irene, I absolutely hate him.” John complained grumpily before sighing over to her. “You must have been desperate in Karachi, mate.” He chuckled. 

Irene had to laugh at that, smiling up t the ceiling. “Well yeah, I’m gay. I must have been desperate if I went for the biggest arsehole of the male persuasion.” She smirked.

“God, I know. The one man on earth who could turn you and it’s Sherlock Holmes?” John laughed and leaned back on his seat. 

She laughed again. “Well, I’m still gay so clearly he didn’t do a good enough job.” She smirked and closed her eyes.

“This is true. Despite his best efforts I’m still straight, so he really isn’t doing a great job turning folk, is he?” John chuckled and swung his legs over his seat and looked at the ceiling. 

“Oh come on, you’re a little gay for Sherlock, admit it.” Irene grinned jokingly, turning her head to look at him.

“Not even if I was actually gay would I ever go for Sherlock Holmes.” John told her seriously, even though he was smiling. “He’s unbearable.” 

Irene laughed at that, sitting up. “Mm, yeah. He is. Good job we’re getting an abortion really. Hate to be tied down to him for the rest of my life. Or even the next five months.” Her smile faded slightly.

John lost his smile a little at that and closed his mouth. He stared up at the ceiling before frowning. “Who you trying to convince here of that, Irene?” 

Irene’s mouth opened but no response came out. She looked down at her feet and closed it again.

John set his lips in a thin line and watched the ceiling and at that, Sherlock came in the door, almost weighed down by bags. Two from the supermarket full of vitamins and other essentials he thought Irene may need, and the other with a mushroom risotto with three times the normal amount of mushrooms. “God, it’s cold out there now.” He commented as he put the bags down. 

Irene raised an eyebrow as she looked over at him ladened with bags. “I’m not even going to ask, as long as that risotto is in front of me in 0.5 seconds.”

“Angelo sends his love.” Sherlock smiled and handed her the bag from the restaurant with a plastic fork. He set about unpacking the Tesco bags when John sat upright with a scowl. “Are you joking right now?” He asked.   
“Eh?” Sherlock asked, looking over to John. “No, what’s funny?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“You are a star, you got extra mushrooms, didn’t you?” Irene grinned as she took the bag, quickly opening it and munching on it. She looked over at John and smirked. “John’s food?”

Sherlock’s eyes cast over to John warily and he chuckled nervously. “Would it help if I said I was sorry..?” 

“You’re such a dick!” John growled at him and stood up. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the flat, cursing under his breath. Irene did her best to keep a straight face, she really did. But as soon as John left the flat she burst into laughter.

Sherlock shrugged and bit his lip. “He’ll survive.” He sat down on his chair and looked over to her. “How is it?” He asked. 

“I have never tasted anything this perfect.” Irene sighed happily and crossed her legs smiling down into her rice.

“Great.” Sherlock smiled. He wanted to apologise for earlier but it really wasn’t his style, and in truth it wasn’t really Irene’s either. Doing this was his way of saying sorry and he had a feeling she’d get that. “Let’s find a film, shall we?” 

“If it’s sentimental, I will throw a mushroom at you.” She warned him as she chewed her food. She knew this was his apology. And she would do them both the courtesy and never mention it again.

“So that’s a no to ‘The Notebook’?” Sherlock smirked as he flicked through the channels. 

She groaned loudly. “Definitely not.” she grinned.

They settled on a film and watched it together peacefully until John came back, with his own dinner. John wasn’t even moody about it, he knew Sherlock far too well to take it personally, instead just joining them and eating. 

As the film progressed, Irene steadily slipped further down the sofa until she was horizontal, fighting to keep her eyes open. “Ugh... I’ve got to go to bed....”

Sherlock looked over to her and smiled fondly. “John has kindly offered to give you his bed, Miss Adler. Isn’t that right, John?” Sherlock looked pointedly over to the doctor who glared back at him. 

“Er, yep. Yeah, on you go, Irene.” John nodded, fuming at Sherlock for putting him on the spot. 

“Aw thank you, it is greatly appreciated.” Irene smiled and stood up, rubbing her eye. “Any chance I can borrow a dressing gown?" She smirked a little at Sherlock.

“I assume you still know where it is?” Sherlock smirked back over to her, amused. 

“Of course.” She blew them both a kiss and walked through to Sherlock’s bedroom, taking the blue dressing gown from his door before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Sherlock sighed sadly and turned his attention back to the film, only half watching it. His eyes wandered as his brain rang rings round him. 

“You okay?” John frowned a little concerned at Sherlock’s expression. 

“I’ll.. tell you when Irene goes to sleep.” Sherlock swallowed. 

John raised an eyebrow but nodded a little. After a while, Irene returned from the bathroom. “Night.” she yawned, heading up the stairs.

“Night, Miss Adler.” Sherlock smiled a little and watched her walk up the stairs in her borrowed dressing gown. 

“Right, share.” John said after he heard Irene shut the door.

Sherlock looked over to John and covered his face with his hands. "I.. I can't. It doesn't matter. Ignore me." He took a deep breath. 

John looked at him, concern set in his eyes. “Sherlock....talk to me.” He murmured.

Sherlock looked at him and could feel his eyes filling. He clenched his jaw and exhaled. "I don't want to have this abortion on Monday, John, I really don't." He breathed, covering his mouth again. 

John’s heart almost broke. He had never seen so much emotion on his best friend’s face. “Sherlock...you have to talk to Irene about this. You’re rushing into this abortion and you don’t even want it.”

"It's not like we're a couple of teenage kids who got pregnant after prom. Irene's life is totally dangerous and mine's is just as bad. We're totally unfit to be parents. It's not the right time for either of us. But..." Sherlock swallowed and took a moment. "It's my baby, John. Google a 15 week old fetus and you'll see it's got tiny arms and legs. It's my child." He took a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes. 

John bit his lip. “If you’re having doubts, then you are not ready for a termination. You need to talk to Irene, she might be thinking the same...she didn’t smoke before, did she? She’s still trying to preserve the child’s health.”

Sherlock shook his head guiltily. "She doesn't want it. And who am I to ask her to keep it? She would end up bringing it up alone, no doubt. Imagine me as a dad?" He scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

John sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sherlock, you need to talk to her.”

"What would I say?" Sherlock sighed and shrugged. "Please don't abort our baby, let's make a go of it?" He laughed sadly. "Frankly I pity the Adler-Holmes baby." In spite of himself a tear escaped his eye. 

“I think that’s exactly what you should say.” John watched Sherlock and sighed. “Look just...think about it, okay?”

Sherlock exhaled and swung his legs over his seat, staring at the ceiling. "What a mess." He mumbled sadly. 

John sighed sadly and nodded. “Just think about it?” He repeated.

"I highly doubt I'll think about much else until 9am Monday." Sherlock said sadly. 

John nodded and looked down. “You should get some sleep.”

"You take my bed, I was only messing about. I'll sleep on the sofa." Sherlock told John, having lost all humour. "I'll probably not sleep anyway. Waste of a bed."

“You sure, mate?” John asked him, although he looked to Sherlock’s room wistfully.

"Yeah, I insist." Sherlock nodded and glanced round to him. "Think I'm gonna have a shower. I'll see you in the morning." 

“Alright, see you tomorrow, mate.” John gave him a small smile before heading off to Sherlock’s room.

Just as John walked past, Irene headed up the stairs a little further in retreat. She had gotten thirsty and had come down to get a glass of water, but stopped when she heard the two talking. Her eyes had begun to water and by this point, a tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly and silently headed back up and climbed into bed. She turned off the light and hugged her stomach, her mind reeling.


End file.
